


Fly

by GalacticTwink



Category: Dream SMP -Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Married Characters, President Schlatt, Ram hybrid Schlatt, Self-Indulgent, Wing Grooming, Winged Alexis | Quackity, theyre so sweet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-22 06:36:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30034572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalacticTwink/pseuds/GalacticTwink
Summary: His wings aren’t as big as Phil’s, wingspan barely half of the other Avian’s, but their rich golden hue is enough to take my breath away no matter how many times I see them..“Um, Schlatt?” Quackity clears his throat, looking sheepishly back at me. I hadn’t realized I started staring again.“Sorry,” “No! Uh, it’s fine, actually I.. need some help. I can’t finish preening by myself.” his voice is quiet, embarrassed to ask me for help.“Yeah, of course; Anything.” I let him pick up one of my hands, guiding it over to his wings. He’s trembling, lacing our fingers together so his can show mine exactly how to pinch and flatten to coax the feathers back into place. “I can’t reach the ones on the back. Can you do them for me?”
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity/Jschlatt
Comments: 6
Kudos: 117
Collections: GalacticTwink Highlights





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've just been thinking about.... them. Ik they weren't happy in canon but Quackity deserved to actually be loved.

I sigh down at my paperwork, laying down my pen to rub my temple. I’m not finished, but my head is starting to spin and my glass has been empty for hours. I fix the latter first, pouring a tall glass of whiskey over ice and downing half before wandering through the hall of the white house. The light under our bedroom door is still on, hours after Quackity told me he was going to bed for the night. I knock, leaning into the door to listen. He moves around inside, our bed squeaking and footsteps thumping on the ground.

“Just a second!” I try the doorknob, opening it slowly and peering in at my husband- in the middle of frantically trying to pull his robe on over his wings. I swallow thickly, watching him freeze to stare back at me. I’ve only seen them extended like this a few times, Q usually keeps them tucked in aside from the occasional flare in the heat of passion which always takes my fucking breath away. They are so hot. His feathers look disheveled, bent at odd angles and fluffed up. Stray feathers carpet part of our bedsheets and are scattered along the floor.

“I said just a second, Jesus Christ.” the edge of his wing is stuck on the sleeve of his robe, keeping him from hiding them from me.

“Hey babe, am I not giving you enough attention?” I pick up one of his golden feathers, spinning it gently between two fingers. He turns pink, grabbing at his wing to fold it back in against his back. He’s topless, long, pink scratches curling around from over his shoulders that still look pretty fresh.

“What’s up?” I reach over to stroke his cheek, the way he leans into my touch making me feel so fucking sappy and warm on the inside.

“It’s fine.” I set down my glass.

“You don’t need to hide from me.” he melts, covering my hand with his to snuggle against my palm. God I just want to hold him against me and never let him go.

“It’s just.. been a while since I’ve taken care of my wings. I need to preen them.” I don’t think I’ve ever seen Quackity groom his wings, not once since we moved in together. Is that why? He didn’t want me to see? I pull him in by the hip to give him a quick kiss then let him go, finally starting to peel back my layers. The suit is a good look and I stand by it, but damn they’re not made for sitting around all day. I shed my clothes and slide on my robe, a perfect match to my husband’s save for the size, sighing as the smooth fabric touches my skin. These things were worth every penny, I swear. Maybe I can get another for Quacikty with gaps for his wings, so he can let them out once and a while.

He’s sitting in bed again, robe pooled around his hips as he grooms himself. It’s a little mesmerizing to watch, his fingers carefully tweaking and smoothing out his unruly feathers like second nature. I guess it is. He looks up at me after every feather, looking to see if I’m still watching him. I’d love to stare all night, but the more times he sees my eyes trained on him the more his fingers start to tremble. I force myself to look away, sitting back with my drink and a book to unwind for the night.

And a comfortable silence blankets over the room, my gaze drifting up from my novel to my husband every once in a while as he confidently preens his beautiful, beautiful feathers. What an angel he is, really. His wings aren’t as big as Phil’s, wingspan barely half of the other Avian’s, but their rich golden hue is enough to take my breath away no matter how many times I see them. I’ve got to snag a few of those extra feathers when he isn’t looking; I still have an open slot or two in my enderchest to fill up.

“Um, Schlatt?” Quackity clears his throat, looking sheepishly back at me. I hadn’t realized I started staring again.

“Sorry,” “No! Uh, it’s fine, actually I.. need some help. I can’t finish preening by myself.” his voice is quiet, embarrassed to ask me for help.

“Yeah, of course; Anything.” I shouldn’t throw words like that around so casually, I’ll get myself into trouble. But I get up and sit next to him on our bed, brushing feathers out of my way as I climb up. Quackity squirms, fidgeting nervously. He practically jumps me every night when I’m done working, but he’s this shy about about a little bit of personal grooming?

“Alright, let me show you.” I let him pick up one of my hands, guiding it over to his wings. He’s trembling, lacing our fingers together so his can show mine exactly how to pinch and flatten to coax the feathers back into place. “I can’t reach the ones on the back. Can you do them for me?” I repeat what I said before, kissing his knuckles and spinning his wedding band around his finger a few times- waiting for him to calm down a little.

“Just be gentle, okay?” this is the first time he’s let me touch them. I’ve asked, but after he refused the first few times I just dropped it altogether. I know how avians can be treated on other servers, and the way he hides them so adamantly even here at home tells me everything I need to know about where he’s come from before. I don’t need to ask, I know full well how hard it can be to be a hybrid. Most of us do.

I touch him as gently as I can, feeling him relax as I fix up his feathers and smooth them down into place. They’re softer than I thought; softer than Phil’s. I have to keep reminding myself to breath, holding my breath every time I go to tug or rustle up his wings for fear of hurting him. It’s okay, everything is going fine.

Quackity’s breath hitches and I freeze. His shoulders tighten for a split second. Fuck, what did I do?

“No, keep going, it’s okay. Just be careful with the ones near the base of my wing there, they’re sensitive.” okay. I pick up again, moving slower and barely brushing my fingertips against the edges of Quackity’s feathers. These ones aren’t as messy as the other ones, so I don’t need to move them as much anyway. They’re so much smaller though, baby feathers just clinging to him pressed against the skin of his back at the very base of his wing. I trace the junction with my finger and he twitches- the noise that spills from his lips making me rethink that he said about that area. My… imagination runs away with the idea for a minute before Q interrupts the thought.

“Thank you for helping, Schlatt. It’s been getting uncomfortable to put off preening for so long but.. I just can’t do it alone. If my arms were just a little bit longer…” how has he ever taken care of himself then? I know Phil has plenty of people ready and willing to give him a hand, but this server is a pretty dangerous place and this is such an intimate position for him- letting me get all up in his weakest and most sensitive spots. Seems like an evolutionary flaw, if you ask me.

“George always used to do it for me, but I just didn’t feel like I could ask him now.” I swallow back a wave of jealousy, scooting over just a bit to start on his other wing. I didn’t know they were that close. “Not like this though, this is different. I know I waited a long time but.. I was just so embarrassed to ask. I knew you wouldn’t hurt me.” the certainty in his voice makes my chest feel all warm and fucked up, the urge to lean down and kiss the strip of skin between his wings so strong. But now’s not the right time. I could say a lot to him right now, but I decide it’s better left in the air. He already knows. I finish his second wing and he spreads them out- treating me to a view of his full wingspan. But he doesn’t quite tuck them back in, shielding the most sensitive parts of his wings but leaving them out as he turns to throw himself against me. I tilt my chin, letting him tuck his face away in my neck.

“Well? How’d I do? Better than George?” I swear I didn’t mean to sneer, but it just came out. Quackity laughs.

“I love you,” he says instead of an answer. And I feel like I could fly too.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Schlatt lets Quackity help him in return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3

I frown at my reflection in the mirror. I’ve been working too much lately, my stubble dark and unkempt and heavy bags lingering under my eyes. I curl up my lip to take in my fangs, sharp and beautiful as always. But… I reach into the drawer and feel around, trying the next one when I don’t find what I’m looking for. It’s not there either, but that’s where I left it. I crack open the bathroom door just enough to yell out into the hall.

“Hey sugar? Do you know where my file is?” Quackity rounds the corner, my key ring dangling from his fingertips as he jogs down towards me.

“What file? You have a whole cabinet of them.” I bite my lip.

“No, babe, my hard file. It’s a little metal stick with rough shit on the side.” I try to mime the shape of it with my hands but it’s not an easy thing to describe. He catches on though, staring blankly at me for a minute before his face lights up.

“Oh, your giant-ass nail file?” I shuffle out of the way and watch him dig through the cabinets, moving the mess down there over and pulling out my file from exactly where he must have left it. “I don’t know what you use this thing for, it’s so heavy it looks like it could rip a guy’s claws straight off.” I take it from him.

“It’s for my horns.” I have used it on my claws, and it does hurt like a bitch. But it’s the only one I’ve ever had a decent time with for my horns and they could really use a touch up. Quack looks up at my horns, making my insides squirm a little. Obviously I can’t really hide them like he can his wings, but seeing them be the center of attention is still hard for me to wrap my head around.

“Why do you need to file them?”

“Same reason you need to file your nails, I guess. They never stop growing and if I leave it for too long they start to get rough and sharp.” I run the file under the tap, the rush of water drowning out Q’s interested musings. I’m tempted to leave it going to block out some of the scraping, but I know he wouldn’t want to talk over it while I’m busy. But the harsh grate of the file on my horn makes him flinch, wide eyes trained up at my careful hand.

“Does it hurt?” oh, he’s so sweet. “No, it doesn’t hurt. My horns need it, they feel good afterwards.” he still looks apprehensive about it. “Here, feel.” I set the file aside and grab Quackity’s hand, bowing my head so he can run his fingers along the rough curve of my horn. His breath hitches, fingers shaky as I guide them across the overgrown bone.

“Now, this is the part I started filing.” it’s not all smoothed out yet, but I know even just a light file makes them so much smoother.

“So, you can’t feel your horns? Like your nails?” I let out the breath I was holding to laugh.

“Not quite. The file feels a little like scratching an itch, but I can definitely feel them. A lot.” I let go of Quackity’s hand to let him touch me, biting down on the inside of my cheek as his careful fingers glide along the inside curve and follow the swirl down to the sharp point.

“Careful, don’t hurt yourself on the tip.” he giggles, but lets me go to stand up straight again. He grabs my hand again when I reach for my file again.

“Can I help?” I hesitate. But I think of Quackity’s own wings, now hanging behind his back loosely, his feathers against my fingertips that first time he opened them up for me. He gave me a huge in to something so sensitive for him; I think he deserves the same amount of trust from me.

“Sure, I can show you how.” I pull my husband out of the bathroom so I can sit in the kitchen, easier to reach for my shorter husband.

“You’re just buffing out the rough spots, once it’s smooth don’t file it down too much. Go ahead and start finishing up where I started.” I let him get a feel for it, searching for somewhere to put his hand and how to hold the heavy file. The first scratch is shy and hesitant, I barely feel it. He’s just looking for the rhythm, glancing down at my face after every more forceful or rough motion.

“A little harder babe, it’s not gonna hurt me.” he leans over me a bit more and gives it some elbow grease. “Mmh, that’s the stuff.” I approve, groaning softly for him to know that’s the sweet spot. It’s been, well, forever since I’ve gotten a good horn buff from someone else. Sure, I had the kid help me a few times to teach him how to do it himself but he was never any good at it.

Quackity’s free hand creeps up to my shoulder, his attention branching out from the middle of my horn out to the tip. I tilt my head for him when he nudges me, letting him move my chin around so he could get at the underside and around the curve. Damn, it feels good. I let my eyes close, my husband’s careful hands moving my hair away from the base of my horn to buff the smoother bit near my skull. I wince, just barely, keeping it under wraps. He’s so confident about it now, I don’t want to take it away from him for a tiny pinch. I can take it.

He finishes up and sets my file to the side, wrapping his fingers around the base of my horn and pulling his palm up around the middle to feel for rough spots.

“Careful Sugar, you’ll get me all excited.” I grin, words a little more breathy than I’d like. I can’t help it when It feels so good, all the nerves under the surface of my horns freshly exposed after such a nice buff. I only encourage him to tease me a little, dragging his fingers down to the tip. Quackity makes a sharp sound, pulling his hands away from me suddenly. I open my eyes, my husband holding one of his hands near his face- a thin trail of blood oozing slowly down his index finger.

I reach out to take his hand, watching him unravel his protective stance to let me take a look. It’s not too bad, just a scratch from the still-sharp point of my horn. I kiss the pad of hid finger, blood smearing on my lips.

“You’re not poisonous, are you?” Q laughs, watching me lick the trail of blood from his skin before returning his hand to him- already done bleeding. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Nah, you’re just not quite done yet. You’re gotta round off the tip so it isn’t sharp.” I show him, carefully filing down the overgrown end and running my own finger across it to make sure it can’t break skin anymore. I hand the file back over and let him move to my other side, relaxing back in my seat.

“So, are your horns like my wings?” he asks casually but his words are careful. He knows how it is.

“It depends I guess. They aren’t as sensitive but they’ve got a lot of nerves tucked up in there, lots of blood vessels and shit. They’re sensitive after you buff them out, cuz the nerves are closer to the surface after you shave off what I don’t need. ‘Course, they’re always sensitive down by the base. When you’ve got horns, you get to take care of them more if you live someplace safe- it’s a luxury to make them vulnerable like that.”

“So you’ve..” I swallow. “Yeah. I have. Hard to hide a huge fuckin’ pair of horns, y’know? I’m an easy target.” Quackity nods solemnly. He gets it, but god I wish he didn’t. Avians are in a better spot than some other hybrids, but we’re all easy to kill when you get down to it.

He’s faster this time humming softly as he works down from tip to base, gingerly finishing me off and brushing my hair back over it- lingering there to pet me. Usually I’d complain, but his other hand is still curled delicately around one of my horns and it’s making me feel all sorts of ways. I let my head tilt to the side, leaning against Quackity’s chest as he holds me. I’ve never felt so fucking vulnerable in my life.

“Hey Q?” he ruffles my hair, leaning down to press his soft lips against the curve of my freshly buffed horn. “I love you so goddamn much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed this fic to be 3 chapters because I had a little idea for a 3rd part!  
> Also I don't know that much about real ram horns, this is how I headcannoned troll horns from hs working and I applied it here for the cute factor
> 
> ~~I'm also very tempted to make an nsfw successor to this fic but I'm very shy to write that kind of this for this fandom because I'm not sure how it would go over~~

**Author's Note:**

> Leaving this not complete because I have a second part I'm very tempted to write. Also title is uninspired but it's 5am


End file.
